


Misoko

by lilolecasserole



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Like, M/M, Meeting the Family, Romance, Tags to be added, and everything's on fire, and the world is on fire, basically the oriharas vs the heiwajimas, but the bullets are on fire, imagine a nerf battle between the two families, it's a fam war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:59:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilolecasserole/pseuds/lilolecasserole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The use of honorifics- No, the use of names entirely was completely unsolicited. Kyouko and Shirou Orihara were Izaya's parents, for goodness' sake, could he not say Mom and Dad? It broke their hearts, seeing their son hold so much hatred for them, especially with how they never intended it to be this way. They never intended to leave him.<br/>"Oh, nikkō..." Kyouko reached out to touch his face, eyes behind her glasses becoming glassy with tears. He merely took a step backwards, correcting her.<br/>"It's really for my own comfort that you refer to me as Izaya-kun."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I do."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsnotlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/gifts).



"Ah, Kyouko-san, Shirou-san. Is there a reason you're here?" Izaya Orihara stood in his apartment at ten o' clock at night, light bags under his eyes and a very sleepy boyfriend in his bedroom. "I'll make some coffee for you, Kyouko-san, and... tea, Shirou-san. Please, be quiet. You don't want to wake the sleeping dragon," he gestured to the hallway, though he hadn't spoken to them in... well, 13 years.

  
The use of honorifics- No, the use of names entirely was completely unsolicited. Kyouko and Shirou Orihara were Izaya's parents, for goodness' sake, could he not say Mom and Dad? It broke their hearts, seeing their son hold so much hatred for them, especially with how they never intended it to be this way. They never intended to leave him.

  
"Oh, nikkō..." Kyouko reached out to touch his face, eyes behind her glasses becoming glassy with tears. He merely took a step backwards, correcting her.  
"It's really for my own comfort that you refer to me as Izaya-kun, if you must show such familiarity. Not that moronic nickname," he spoke clearly, each word enunciated properly as if he were speaking to someone he wished to impress. Despite this, he was merely attempting to hold back his _anger_ , his _loathing_ , everything that had been built up over the years.

  
Shirou was the one who taught him to be that way. Shirou was the one who told him to hide his emotions. _For your own sake._ Izaya could laugh at it now, but, no, he simply walked to the kitchen, one step after another.

  
It was rather beautifully adorned; while modern in design, it was littered with things Shizuo had bought him over the past two and half years- a little ceramic cat, quite a few cards, rings, jewelry boxes, etc. Izaya never liked leaving things around, but with these he just couldn't seem to put them away. They were organized in a quite pretty fashion, so why not?

  
As the coffee and tea brewed, drips of boiling water falling into their respective pots, Izaya couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, his parents could want from him at a time like this? To apologize? To be a happy family again? No, that couldn’t possibly be right. His thoughts were interrupted with the sound of heels softly clacking on the hardwood floor, the unmistakable touch of his mother’s cold hand resting on his shoulder plaguing his mind.

  
“Nikkō-- I mean, ah... Izaya-kun... We flew in from America to meet your, ah. Your boyfriend, and to see how things were going... Shizuo Heiwajima, is it? He got your father’s number from Mairu and Kururi and called us last week for, ah... reasons... And we decided that we should come visit, you know? Just to check up on you,” Kyouko smiled gently as Izaya turned around, brows furrowed.

  
Shizuo called his parents? Shizuo called his parents. That could only mean-

  
“What did he say?” Izaya’s hands were on the countertop now , gaze fixed on the space between them. Kyouko seemed very much bothered by that question, as if she hadn’t expected to hear it.

  
Then, she realized. “Oh, I... Did I ruin the surprise?”

  
Unfortunate events seemed to place themselves in perfect synchronization throughout Izaya’s lifetime, and this was no different. He heard a familiar voice snap, “Who the hell are you?” from the living room. The voice itself seemed foggy, clouded with tiredness. _Shizu-chan._

  
Izaya completely forgot about the coffee and tea, instead passing by his mother to return to the living room. She followed suit quickly, eyes looking rather... apologetic. “Shizuo-kun, I’m very sorry, I thought you’d already done it and it just slipped out of my mouth, I---”

  
“What are you talking about?” Shizuo raised a brow, eyes flickering between the two. Wait. That woman, she sounded familiar... Right, he’d spoken to her on the phone just last week, but... About what? I... Izaya? Oh. Oh. It was Izaya’s mother.

  
He locked eyes with Izaya, who looked _shocked, upset, betrayed, scared, worried, confused_. Shizuo knew that something must have been wrong, that Izaya didn’t want these people here. “Well, listen, I- I’ll take care of it, alright? You two go back to a hotel room or something for tonight and we’ll talk it out tomorrow.” The distance between Shizuo and the hallway grew as he spoke, making his way to Izaya to pull him back to the bedroom.

  
It wasn’t like he was happy about it, but Izaya followed obediently. _Obediently_. A word he could rarely ever use.

  
Kyouko and Shirou, thankfully, got the hint. Shirou wouldn’t have left, his stubbornness being too much for Izaya to handle even at his best, so Kyouko practically had to pull him out of the apartment. When it was again just Shizuo and Izaya, it was also completely and utterly silent.

  
Silent, yes. It was something that rarely came into being in the presence of these two; they always seemed to have something to say to each other, be it positive or negative. Izaya was the first one to break it, his reputation as destruction itself preceeding itself. “You were going to-”

  
Shizuo immediately cut it off there. "Just wait a second," he muttered, and again he disappeared into the hallway.

  
When he returned, he held a little velvet box in his hands. It cracked open, and inside was something beautiful, something almost more beautiful, frankly, than Izaya had ever seen: A rose gold ring, an infinity braid pattern surrounding it. In the center of each loop, there was a small ruby. It must have cost a small fortune, relative to Shizuo's salary.

  
"Izaya, I love you, and-" Shizuo started, but Izaya couldn't bear it. No, he just couldn't, not right now.  
  
"Shizu-chan, how much did that cost you--?"  
  
"Don't worry about that, Izaya, I just want you to-"  
  
"I don't want you doing this, I don't want you to... Why did you call my parents?"  
  
"I had to get your father's blessing."  
  
"You don't need my father's blessing."  
  
"Izaya, I'm in love with you. Please, will you marry me?"

  
Izaya wasn't sure what to do or say. Slowly, quietly, he pulled the silver ring off of his left index finger and slipped it onto Shizuo's ring finger. With a small, sad smile, Shizuo kissed Izaya's forehead and took the ring he'd bought. He took Izaya's left hand and placed the ring on his finger as well. A sign of their love. Of their life.

  
As they kneeled there together, though, holding each other- Izaya's face buried in the crook of Shizuo's neck and Shizuo running his hands through Izaya's hair- it seemed like it didn't matter much what had just happened. They had each other.

  
That wonderful feeling was ruined within about a millisecond when Shizuo spoke up.

  
"I... planned dinner with your parents tomorrow night. They're expecting you to come, too."


	2. "Surely,"

As they got ready for the dreaded meal, Izaya found himself lagging behind Shizuo. The other would tug on a nice blazer, would run a comb through his hair, would put effort into his looks just for Izaya's ridiculous parents at the same time Izaya was just getting out of the bed he hadn't left all day. Shizuo had to bring him both breakfast and lunch, and for the majority of the time, they didn't even use the television that they had in Izaya's bedroom. They just talked, and talking between the two was usually very unpleasant.

  
Observing himself in the full mirror, Shizuo was fairly content with his appearance. He fixed his tie nervously, though, the anxiety of wanting to be accepted by Izaya's parents (no matter how horrible Izaya himself thought they were) overwhelming. Izaya, on the other hand, had... put on pants.

  
"You're not dressing up for this?" Shizuo asked, eyebrows arched. His husband-to-be would be offended- or, at least, would pretend to be offended- had he not been so tired.

  
"Shizu-chan, you're an idiot," Izaya retorted simply. Slipping on the usual melancholically dark v-neck and fur-trimmed jacket, his voice was laced with something more aggressive than anger. "You don't dress up for dinner with my parents, you dress up to meet the _Emperor_ ; my mother is not the _Emperor_ , my father is not the _Emperor_ , and I am one hundred percent certain that no one in the restaurant we've made reservations at is the _Emperor_."

  
There were a lot of words Shizuo could have said right then; however, since the beginning of their relationship, something he'd gotten extremely good at was _self restraint_. However, being the person he was, it was hard not to say... something. And he had the right to say it!... Right?

  
"You have to stop being so dissatisfied with them and just _deal with it_. They're your parents, Izaya."

  
Now, if Shizuo had known the dynamics in their relationship, of course he wouldn't have said that. However, all he'd known all his life were a wonderful mother and father. Sure, they weren't around long, and they were afraid of him, but they loved him all the same. They loved him like no one else could, just because they were his parents. He thought that it was the same for everyone, that parents just loved you because they were parents. The same way he didn't care to look at things from Izaya's perspective, Izaya didn't care to look at things from his.

  
In fact, Izaya didn't do much of anything. He just crossed his arms, cleared his throat, and headed for the door. The tension had already begun to build up, and Shizuo could feel it. There was a fight coming on.

 

 

  
_**1F 6-47 Kagurazaka, Shinjuku Tokyo. Ristorante Stefano. March 12, 6:45pm.** _

 

As Orihara Kyouko and Shirou sat on one side of the table for four, they looked over their menus nervously. A hand slipped over Kyouko’s, squeezing it softly. As she looked up, her gaze was met with her husband’s; anyone who didn’t know him would think him to be stern, unforgiving. She knew, however, that he was kind, and wonderful, and loving.

  
“He’s going to show,” he assured Kyouko. She only nodded in response. Deciding that familiarity was often an enemy, though, small talk seemed to be the only option to shoo away the silence.

  
“So, ha... Four cheese ravioli looks good,” she pointed to it on the menu, feeling her husband’s arm slip around her shoulders. He just barely tilted his head to the door and she looked with all the desperation in her eyes that a mother could have.

  
Shizuo came first. He entered surely, as he tended to. There were some utterings of “H-H-Heiwajima Shizuo! Oh, shit!” and things of the like, but as Izaya came in just a second after him, they were silenced.

  
For some reason, Izaya felt obligated to make his life look absolutely flawless. Maybe as a big ‘fuck you’ to his parents, to prove that he was happy without them. And so, he had a wonderful grin on his face, a hand linked with Shizuo’s and a skip in every other step. As the couple sat, Shirou’s demeanor changed ever-so-slightly, as if to communicate with Kyouko the way only two people who were married for over a decade could.

  
It was obvious to them that Izaya was, in essence, a huge fake.

  
Kyouko cleared her throat, looking around for the server. Unfortunately, they’d have to make do until someone came along to assist them. “So, Shizuo-san. What do you do for a living?”

  
Izaya immediately cut in. “He’s a lawyer, mother.” The statement certainly made Shizuo quirk a brow. A lawyer? When in the hell had he ever been a- goddamnit, Izaya. The blatant disrespect he showed for his parents was starting to piss Shizuo off.

  
“That’s nice,” Kyouko smiled softly. “And you, Izaya? I don’t think I know exactly what you’re doing at the moment.”

  
“Financial planning,” he responded without skipping a beat. It was almost as if all of this was rehearsed. Shizuo wondered just how many times he and his parents had that conversation, and if it was the same every time. It must have been.

  
The smile on Kyouko’s face dropped. “Izaya... I’m your mother.” Her voice lowered, hands reaching out across the table to grasp Izaya’s. He stared her down with a look in his eyes so intense; was it hatred? No. Sorrow? No. Shizuo and Shirou observed the two for a moment more. The look in Izaya’s eyes was _betrayal_. “I know when you’re lying to me and when you’re not. So, listen, I’ll tell you the truth and I’m trusting you to do the same.” Kyouko took a deep breath before she spoke again.

  
“Shirou and I got an email before we came. It was about you. We know you’re doing bad things, Izaya, and we know your life is dark. _We don’t care. We love you._ We just want to see you safe. But if you lie to us- to me, to your mother, Izaya, about this... It’s just going to... I don’t know.” Tears were welling in her eyes. She leaned back against the chair, moving away from Izaya. Part of him longed for her touch to remain.

  
“I’m a financial planner. Shizu-chan here is a lawyer. And, by the way, I felt your fingers trace my engagement ring. Thanks for the congratulations, mother. Or, ah- the lack thereof. It’s telling,” he stood up, hands resting on the table. "And just so you know-"

  
"Izaya," Kyouko cut in. "Sit _down_."

  
After the longest 15 seconds of Shizuo's life, Izaya finally sat back down. "You're asking for a truth you don't deserve. Do you understand me? I'm not going to allow you to feel entitled to information you have no right to, because this is _my_ life. You had the chance to be involved and you backed out. You- You _both_ are cowards. So, next time you'd like to find something out about me, I suggest you hire a different..." He hissed the words, " _informant_. I hope you're happy."

  
Shizuo cleared his throat as Izaya promptly left the restaurant. "I... I apologize so deeply, he's- not usually... I... I should go." And with that, he followed after Izaya.  
Kyouko stared at the door, clutching Shirou's hand in her own.

 

  
\---  
People can believe the same thing, and yet go on to follow very different paths in their lives. A wonderful example of this is Orihara Kyouko and Orihara Izaya- mother and son, respectively. Neither of them believed in a God, yet longed for one. They loved two strong, but gentle people- people that everyone else feared. Manipulation was key in their lives, but used for different purposes. They were so similar, and yet their lives so different.

  
As they spoke to others, that was obvious. Izaya to Shizuo and Kyouko to Shirou.  
\---

 

 

_**Izaya's apartment. Shinjuku. March 12, 9:38pm.** _

  
"Shizu-chan, you don't _get_ it, I can't believe you would side with _them_ after all this. You know how upset I am about this and yet you still-"

  
"Izaya, I'm not siding with anyone! I'm just telling you that they're your parents and you should at least respect that! What did they even do to you to make you hate them so goddamn much?"

  
"They _left_! I was a kid, Shizu-chan, and they _left_! I didn't know what to do, I had two baby sisters that I had no idea how to take care but I had to anyway, the only time I ever even saw their names was on the checks they'd send for us to be able to pay the rent, and that was it. Do you understand that? You keep saying they're my parents but they're not. People have to earn the right to call themselves your family and they haven't." Izaya let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. "You know what? Just- forget it."

  
Shizuo furrowed his brows, staring at Izaya for just a second before speaking again. "Izaya, hold on, I didn't know about this. You didn't say anything before."  
"I don't care if I didn't say anything, you're so set on respect and family values and it's just sickening. You're like a dog in a pack, nothing is more important to you than rank."

  
"Could you just calm down for a second and _talk to me?_ " Shizuo was honestly pissed to no end, but yelling and screaming at Izaya when he was probably on the verge of a mental breakdown wasn't the way to go here, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Hesitantly, he reached out to Izaya, grabbing his hand and pulling him close. "Izaya, I'm on your side. Look at this," his thumb gently traced the ring on Izaya's finger. "I'm _on your side_."

  
Izaya wasn't exactly happy with how Shizuo was choosing to handle things, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew how irrational he was being, how he was lashing out at someone with minimal information about the situation for inquiring about it. It figured that the only way to calm Izaya down was to literally grab him. He squirmed for just a few seconds in Shizuo's arms before giving up.

  
Shizuo was on his side.

  
"... I'm... Yeah," he inhaled sharply, turning around to reciprocate the hold Shizuo had on him that he decidedly labeled as a hug. "Can we just go to bed?"

  
Shizuo sighed in relief as Izaya calmed, resting his head atop the other's. "Of course we can."

 

 

  
_**Centurion Hotel Ikebukuro. March 12, 10:54pm.** _

  
"Okay, good night, Shirou," Kyouko kissed his forehead, returning to her laptop to get some work done.

  
He was going to sleep, of course, but watching his lovely wife stare at a blank word document for such a long time must have meant that she was deep in thought. He couldn't, in good conscience, leave her like that. Dragging himself into a sitting position, he set an arm around her waist and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.   
"He'll come around, darling," he smiled softly, stroking her side comfortingly. "And if he doesn't, he doesn't."

  
"Do you think it would be easier if he didn't have that fiancè of his..? Surely, without an emotional rock, he'd be much more willing to mend our relationship, right?" She leaned into his touch, paying no attention to the fact that Shirou was definitely not sleeping.

  
Shirou pondered her statement, running a hand through her hair gently. "Maybe. Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? You know it would break his heart. He rarely opens up to anyone, and to be willing to marry someone after everything, this person must be special. Are you sure about this?"

  
Kyouko's blank expression contorted into one disgustingly close to Izaya's, ends of her lips curling into a Cheshire grin. She closed her laptop and reached for her phone, finding the contact name:  
Heiwajima Shizuo  
She pressed the 'CALL' button and mouthed a thank you to her husband, maybe for putting up with her or maybe for being so supportive of her antics, but her heart was in the right place.

  
"Shizuo-san? Yes, I'm sorry for calling you so late. It's just that, after what happened today... We really are trying to mend our relationship with Izaya, and we don't think we can do it alone. Please, we're begging you, would you help us? ... I understand, but we're desperate. He's our son. I'm sure you get it. ... Thank you so, so much. We'll never forget your kindness."

  
The phone was closed and set aside, and Kyouko lay back in the bed. Shirou was somewhat uncomfortable with her manipulative side, but it got things done, he'd admit, and his love for her overpowered it greatly.

 

 

**_Izaya's apartment. Shinjuku. March 12, 10:56pm._ **

  
Izaya rubbed his eyes, turning a little on the bed. His body was cold from the absence of Shizuo's touch, as the other had sat up to answer a phone call. Thankfully, though, it was over soon, and they were cuddling soon enough again.

  
"Who was it?" Izaya mumbled quietly.

  
"Ah, no one," Shizuo responded a bit too quickly. "Just sleep."

 

 

_**Izaya's apartment. Shinjuku. March 13, 4:15am.** _

  
As he woke up before Shizuo, he very slowly reached over to the nightstand. Slender fingers grasped Shizuo's phone, flipping it open and typing in the password.

'HOKKAIDO'.

  
Ordinarily, he wouldn't do such a thing, but he just felt... _paranoid_. And he was right to feel that way, evidently, because the last caller on Shizuo's phone had the same number as his mother. He looked over at the man sleeping beside him and for a moment, just... felt like he should have slit the guy's throat when he had the chance. But he couldn't. He couldn't and he wouldn't, not right now, at least.

  
He left the room, pulling casual shoes and his usual jacket on to leave. He pulled his engagement ring off and stared down at it; was that a teardrop that had fallen onto a ruby? When had he started crying?

  
On the streets of Ikebukuro, the ring was again present on his finger.

  
But it felt more feigned than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Sorry it took so long for me to update. I actually had this chapter done for a while but I forgot to upload it. How are you guys?


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